


Every Road Leads To You.

by sincehewas18



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 16-Year-Old Harry, 18-Year-Old Louis, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Bakery, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Boys Kissing, Dean Works in a Bookstore, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Harry-centric, Kissing, Larry Stylinson Is Real, Louis' an assistant teacher, Louis-centric, M/M, Mentioned Niall/Liam, Moving Tattoo(s), Mutual Pining, No Smut, POV Alternating, Pining, Pining Harry, Pining Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Pining Louis, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Soulmates, Soulmates Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Soulmates map tattoo, Work In Progress, the other boy are briefly in it or just mentioned sorry not sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-25 23:55:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4981702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincehewas18/pseuds/sincehewas18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the age of 18, Louis gets his Soulmate Map. It will show him where his soulmate is at all times, like a GPS of sorts. Except his is broken, and the soulmate marker is stuck in one spot, Holmes Chapel. Louis moves to the little town to begrudgingly search for his soulmate, and there are a few not so unpleasant surprises along the way. . . </p><p>or</p><p>Louis follows his map in search of his Soulmate. Instead he meets Harry, a worker in the bakery below his Flat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Road Leads To You.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second soulmates fic... what has my life become haha
> 
> Okay so I've lost the original prompt for this, as it was on tumblr and I stupidly didn't save it. Apologies! It was also partly inspired by Louis' compass tattoo pointing to home.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, it spiralled somewhat out of control. I originally meant for it to be a one shot, but I've decided to post it in two parts now :) 
> 
> Happy reading!

Louis hates tattoos. Hates them, thinks they're stupid and pointless. Why would anyone want to mark their skin with ink and meaningless pictures?

Then he had to turn 18.

He liked the way his skin looks without them, all smooth and golden and un-obstructed. Everyone around him has them, tattoos he means, his mum, dad, stepdad, friends, grandparents… Everyone older than 18 has one. And it isn't by choice. He thinks is should at least be a choice what you get permanently marked on your arm.

Thats why Louis is mad. You don't get a choice. He runs his hand over unmarked skin one last time. 

He's sitting on his comfy overstuffed couch, the night before christmas, surrounded by friends and family; and he's grumpy. He plasters on a smile for his mum’s sake, but she knows how he feels about this particular birthday. She smiles back at him, but her’s is genuine. 

So on December twenty-fourth 2009, the clock chimed midnight, grandfather clock ringing in the corner, and his friends and family cheered.

“Happy Birthday Louis!”

Louis just stared blankly at his forearm where ink was beginning to bleed out and form the lines of hills and roads and outlines of buildings.

All the things specific to finding his soulmate. 

His map is in England, so theres that, at least. His soulmate isn't too far, not in _Canada_ or something. It’s a small victory among a million losses. (There isn't actually a million losses, Louis is just bitter.)

Then the little dot representing his soulmate appears, its green, and not moving. It isn't moving at all, no heartbeat, no motion. Louis puts a hand over the dot, and feels nothing.

Louis’ face probably drains of colour at that point, because his mum rushes over from her chair and wraps an arm around his shoulder with that ‘worried mum’ look on her face. He knows it too well, its been displayed too many times in his now eighteen years. 

“Whats wrong, my love?” She asks, voice kind and gentle. He loves his mums voice, its always been so soothing. It’s the voice she used to used when he was little and had a fever.

Louis moves his left arm to show her the map. Her eyes widen when she sees the little marker representing his soulmate, and widen a little more when she sees its not moving nor is it beating like its supposed to.

“Oh, honey. I’m sorry.” She kisses his head, and hugs him tightly as Louis’ bright eyes begin to water. His soulmates marker isn't moving, the tattoo isn't pulsing with their heartbeat like its supposed to. 

His soulmate has either passed away, or not turned eighteen yet. Both are depressing, because on one hand he will be forever alone, and on the other, he could be some kind of cradle robber. His soulmate could be ten years old and he wouldn't even know it.

His friends pick him up off the couch suddenly, noticing is expression, and his mums arms unwrap themselves, scaring Louis out of his melancholic stupor.

They raise him up onto their shoulders with ease and sing him Happy Birthday again. Louis’ cheeks heat up, he dislikes having all the attention on him. But it cheers him up a little bit, only because Stan has just messed up the words. It’s funny because who forgets the words to Happy Birthday, of all things?

Louis smiles, and thinks that yeah, maybe he’ll be okay. He’ll go search for his soulmate, see if they are still alive, and get some peace of mind. His friends will help him through.

Maybe he will be alright, maybe.

He looks at his soulmates location marker one more time, taking in the location of where they stopped moving last, the moment before Louis got his tattoo.

Cheshire. The little arrow has stopped on some random street in Cheshire, so he guesses that’s where he's off to soon. On his obligatory journey to find true love. 

Then the masses surrounding him move on to singing _For He's a Jolly Good Fellow_.

**

2009 turned into 2010 in the blink of an eye, literally. One second he's at a party with his mates, the next second everyones putting down their drinks and counting down the seconds. 

_five, four three, two, one!_

Everyones cheering and grabbing their soulmates, kissing as they ring in the new year. Louis is sat on a couch in-between two couples who should probably just get a room and call it a night, wallowing.

Just a few days ago he had been quite opposed to the whole soulmates thing, but now as he is watching all these people being happy with their significant others, he find himself wishing that he had one himself.

He removes himself from the couch and walks to the fridge to get another beer.

Maybe he can drink away these thoughts.

**_**H**_ **

The air is cold and crisp as Harry Styles walks down his street, making his way home. Hands are stuffed into jacket pockets and a knit hat is fit snuggly upon a head of chestnut curls. He can see his breath billowing in the air, and thinks it looks kind of pretty. Like blowing smoke from his lungs without actually smoking.

Its February, and Harry has just celebrated his sixteenth birthday. There was a big cake to feed all of his friends, decorated in music notes and rainbows. (Harry made it for himself because his mum refused to buy one if he was completely capable of making a delicious one himself. He does work in a bakery after all, so it wasn't much of a fight.)

So he ate cake at his home with his mum and sister, and a couple of old mates (if you could call them that, they're mostly his mums friends’s kids), went bowling with the few school mates he does have, ate some more cake, and went to bed. 

Now as his eyes slip closed to the sound of soft music, The Script, playing in the background, he lets himself thinks of the future. Of his soulmate. Because today marked exactly two years until he can go and find them.

What will they look like? Will it be a boy or a girl? (Though Harry is not opposed to either gender, he does prefer boys.) He thinks of all the little things that could go wrong, but doesn't let himself dwell on them too much. Not a good state of mind to be in. 

He rubs a hand over where he knows his tattoo will appear the moment he turns eighteen, a wills time to move faster so he can just find them already. He wants to settle down, even as young as he is. 

Harry has always been quite mature for his age, very domestic and what not. He loves children, and cooking, he has all the makings of a good husband. One day he wants to open his own bakery, so he is studying Law and Business in college.

But he has two more years. Only two more. Then he will get his map, see his soulmates location and move towards it, hoping they don't go too far. Harry hopes they aren't across the world. It would be quite inconvenient but entirely worth it if they were, though. 

He can wait, but he won't be patient in doing so. He already has his eighteenth birthday marked on the calendar above his desk as something to look forward to.

 

**_**L**_ **

January passes just as quickly as new years, and suddenly its February. 

Louis has accidentally over slept. Not a good thing, as its February 12th, the day he is meant to leave for Cheshire; in just a few hours, actually.

Todays the day he is meant to hop on a train with duffle bags stuffed full of his belongings, to start a new life away from his family, friends and Doncaster. 

So if he pressed the snooze button on his alarm clock a few times, its because he is daunted by the whole idea of it all. Because, really. He turns eighteen and is supposed to move house, get a job, all to find his future spouse? It seems a bit extreme is all, considering his marker hasn't even moved, hasn’t even beaten with their heartbeat.

But he does it anyway, much to his own chagrin. 

So at exactly 10:34 am he gets out of his bed begrudging and puts some pyjamas on. He doesn't want his little sisters to catch sight of his tattoo and ask questions, more than they already have, he doesn't think he could take that right now.

He opens his dusty blinds allowing natural light to flood his now very bare bedroom. Everything he needs is in a boxes downstairs waiting to be sent off to his new flat in Holmes chapel, Cheshire. He looked up to street name on his arm to find that that is its location. A small little village, a population of about 6,000 people. At least it wont be too difficult to find his soulmate, if their bloody marker would move.

But that could be a ways away, years even, depending on their age, and whether or not they're fucking _dead_.

For his own sake, he hopes that they're just younger. Its selfish but true. It'd still be a little bit heart breaking if the street inked on his arm is home to a grave yard or something along those lines, even if he didn't know them, its still the person he was meant to spend his life with.

So in the bright room he fixes his floppy fringe in the mirror and makes his way downstairs to the kitchen.

“Morning Louis!” One of his youngest siblings calls from the family room.

“Morning Daisy.” He answers. Louis is just now realizing with his impending move just how much he will miss these simple morning pleasantries.

He dismisses the thought before tears start welling up in his eyes, and puts a few slices of bread into the toaster. His small feet move him over to the fridge where he pulls out his jams, raspberry and strawberry. Mixed together is how Louis likes to eat them on his toast.

Lottie walks in with a dirty plate full of crumbs and an empty mug just as Louis’ toast pops.

“Mornin’.” She says, turning to face him. She gives him a little smile and hops up on the counter.

“Can I help you with something?” He asks, silently wondering why she's here. Not that he doesn't love his sister, because he does, but Louis wants to be alone right now before he has to face the world.

“It’ll be okay, you know. Moving away wont change anything.” She speaks quietly, twirling her thumbs around eachother. 

Louis looks at her with a fond expression, “Of course it won’t, you and the girls can come and visit me on the weekends and we can go see movies and stuff.”

Her faces brightened with each word, then she's off the counter and hugging him tightly. Louis wraps his arms around her shoulder tightly. 

“Love you lots, Lou.”

“Love you too.”

**

He’s just returned from the post office, sending the last of his boxes on their way to Holmes Chapel where they will be waiting for him when he arrives, if all goes as planned.

Louis glances down at his watch as he walks up the stairs to his bedroom. It’s 12:22 pm, and his train leaves in an hour. Louis’ stomach does a little flip, because this is really happening.

He shuts the bedroom door behind him, moving to his bed which is empty of any sheets or pillows, all stuffed into boxes.

The only things actually left in his room are the large pieces of furniture: bed, dresser, chair. He will probably have to purchase new furniture when he gets there, along with actual couches and tables for his living room and kitchen.

He feels all grown up, but he doesn't want to be.

Louis lets his mind wander for a little while until the door is squeaking open and his mum is poking her head inside.

“Ready to go?” She asks, referring to his train.

Louis isn't. He wants to stay here and not have to deal with the real world or finding soulmates etcetera. But everybody else does, they've got no choice really, and that includes him.

So Louis rearranges his fringe upon standing up, and says “lets go”.

**

After hugging each of his sisters and mum about million times, giving them all a little kiss on the top of their heads, he is on the train feeling slightly nervous. Butterflies fly recklessly in his stomach, and he feels as if he may be sick. This is actually happening, he's actually moving away.

He can see all the little looks strangers are giving him, smiles and grimaces, noticing the tattoo displayed prominently on his arm. He'd forgotten to cover it up today, so now he feels like everyone knows his business and is slightly creeped out.

He stuffs his large duffle bag filled with clothes into the over head storage and takes his seat next to some old business man with a pretentious looking suit on.

The train begins to move a little while later and Louis is grateful because the business man dozes off immediately, sparing Louis from any form of awkward conversation that might have ensued.

Louis watches through the window as the train goes past other towns and the country side Cheshire. Not much later and they're stopping in the admittedly picturesque town of Holmes Chapel.

Louis sighs as he has to stand on his tiptoes to reach up for his bag again, and he heaves it down. He turns back around to see the business man is gone, and takes that as his cue to leave too.

He walks down the narrow corridor to the door and steps out into the shining sun light. Its crisp outside and cold, a little bit of snow is melting on the ground.

The station isn't very crowded which is surprising considering its the holiday season, but it is quite a small little town. The lack of crowds makes it easier to find a cab, and he hops in it immediately, flinging his duffle onto the seat next to him.

“Where to, sir?” the cabbie asks politely, making eye contact in the rear view mirror.

Louis has to look at the address written on a crumpled post, which apparently was on the very bottom of his bag, because it takes a moment to find. When he finally does, the cab driver is tapping impatiently on the steering wheel.

“Sorry. Barbaras Bakery, please.” He says reading the messy scrawl, and then the cab is in motion.

The ride is short, only five minutes. Its long enough for him to see the pretty old church and some shops that he may have to visit later, though. He does need to purchase a couch. And food.

He makes a mental note to google directions to the nearest tescos.

The cab pulls to a stop at the curb, “Here we are, that'll be 5 pounds please.”

Louis hands the man a tenner for his troubles, and steps out onto the sidewalk.

His flat is situated above a tiny little bakery, is nothing more than a hole in the wall really. 1 bedroom, 1 bathroom and a tiny little kitchen and living room. But its home now, he supposes. 

The awning above the shop window reads _Barbaras Sweets and Treats_. How quaint.

He isn't sure how to actually get up to his flat, so he walks into the bakery and takes a seat at one of the tables. It’d be locked anyway, and he doesn't have the key.

He checks his phone, reading a text from his Realestate agent who said they would meet him here at 5pm. He looks at the clock on the wall across from him, and its 4:45. Not too long to wait, but he is quite hungry and tired from the journey here.

Good things he lives above a bakery.

So he sets his bag on the floor next to his chair and stands up. He has a fiver in his pocket, and its smells so good in here, of course he's going to get something. Bread is his worst weakness.

“Hello love, what can I get for ya today?” Asks the older woman whose name tag clipped onto a red pinstripe apron reads ‘Barbara’.

He gazes behind her at the selection, and spots a nice looking cheese loaf.

“A ham sandwich on that cheese bread there,” he points to it, “and one of those chocolate cupcakes please.”

He isn't usually one for sweets like chocolate cupcakes, but these ones look delicious.

“Good choice, our young Harry just made those earlier today, they're nice and fresh.” She's smiles as she slices the bread, and grabs a cupcake with a pair of pink tongs.

She's just about to go and slice up some ham for his sandwich when the phones rings.

“Sorry love, I’ll get someone to make this for you.” She wipes her hands off on the apron and runs to answer the phone.

He hears some quiet murmuring, then a boy is rounding the corner.

Shit.

He’s cute. So cute. His hair is so curly and he's smiling at him and his mouth is moving with pink lips and _shit_. He's meant to be looking for his soulmate but instead he's checking out bakery workers.

Then realizes the boy is talking to him.

Dazed, Louis says “Sorry, what was that?”

The boy smiles again, showing off his cute front teeth and deep dimples. Louis glances at his name tag. ‘Harry’, it says. His apron is a mess of flour, and his hands are covered in dough, but he makes it look nice, domestic, almost. 

“No worries, just wondering what kind of sandwich this was?” Even his voice is cute. He moves to the sink to wash his hands, pumping soap onto one large palm.

“Oh, Ham, please.” He says.

The boy walks to the meat counter to take the ham out from the cooler. Louis watches in some sort of trance as he slices it and puts it on the bread with some mayonnaise and tomato.

“Here you are,” he says sliding the plate with the cupcake and sandwich across the counter, “4 pounds 50 pence please.”

Louis gives him the fiver and takes his food, “Keep the change.” He says when the boy goes to get it for him.

“Oh, thank you.” His green eyes sparkle and Louis is smitten.

Louis gives a little nod, and takes his seat again. The boy has gone back to the kitchens, out of sight. Trust Louis to find a cute boy when he's looking for his soulmate. Just his luck.

Just as he takes the first bite of his sandwich the Realestate agent walks through the door.

“Hi, Hello, sorry I'm late.” The blonde man says, he looks quite young to be a real-estate agent, but what does he know.

“Its fine. Good to meet you Mr. Smith.” Louis says as the guy takes a seat across from him.

“Oh, I'm not Mr. Smith, just his secretary. He couldn't make it because his wife went into labour.” The boy explains.

“I’m Niall, good ta meet you.” Niall slides a key and a business card across the table, “If you're in need of friend, feel free to call me. I just live in Manchester, it’s not too far from here, ‘Bout an hour.”

He cant tell if Niall is just very friendly, or just very forward. But then he sees the colourless map on his forearm, a sign he's met his soulmate, and he knows he's just friendly. Niall must see him eyeing the tattoo because he moves it so Louis can see better.

“Me and my boyfriend live in Manchester, he's great, name’s Liam.” He explains with a fond smile.

Louis feels comfortable with this boy for some reason, so he shows him his own colourful tattoo.

“Just got here, looking for mine. The marker hasn't moved yet, so I'm not sure if they’re, you know…” He trails off, hoping Niall gets the gist of his statement.

He does, and replies with a sad nod.

“Well, good luck mate, I'm off. Gotta get home, call anytime and we’ll get a pint!” He calls as he walks out the door and down the sidewalk.

Louis tucks the key and the phone number in his pocket, resuming his dinner.

The sandwich is really good, but the cupcake is even better.

**_**H**_ **

The work day has been slow, not many people come into the bakery on Fridays, because they all flock to Manchester to party, and the town has a large elderly population who tend to come in first thing the morning.

So Harry spends his afternoon icing his fresh cupcakes, kneading bread, and rolling out some buttery pastries. His hands are caked with flour and his apron is a mess, so he isn't exactly excited when Barbara sends him out to finish a customer order so she can pick up the phone.

But he obeys, because he loves Barbara, and because he _would_ like an excuse to scrub the dough off of his hands.

Harry brushes them off as best he can before rounding the corner to the front of shop. There is a boy waiting patiently at the till, and Harry almost trips.

Beautiful is a word you could use to describe him, but that would be an understatement. His hair is fluffy and his eyes are blue, his golden skin shines.

He asks what kind of sandwich he wanted, trying to keep his voice from rising. He doesn't often get attractive new customers in, so he must be just passing through town or something. He'd recognize the boy if he lived here.

The boy seems to have zoned out, so he raises his voice a little, and his blue eyes snap up as he apologizes.

The boy wants ham, so Harry slices the meat and makes the sandwich as slowly as possible so he can sneak glances at the boy.

He’s wearing pants rolled at the ankles, and a cardigan pushed up past his elbows, so of course he catches sight of his map.

Harry instantly deflates, because the boy is in search of his soulmate, probably wont even take a second glance at Harry. 

Then he sees the boys soulmate marker, and its in Cheshire, Holmes Chapel to be exact. Harrys heart races for no apparent reason, other than that theres a beautiful boy moving to town.

So the boy is staying, he thinks happily.

Eventually he realizes he should hurry up with the sandwich, so he slides it across as the boy pays and takes a seat.

Harry reluctantly goes back to the kitchen to pick up where he left off with the bread he was rolling out. As his hands work the soft dough, he lets his mind remember those cheekbones and his accent; it was quite charming. 

One cant be expected not to be charmed when in his presence, he thinks.

So of course Harry is elated when he hears an Irish voice begin talking about the apartment for let upstairs, and the boy answering, saying he's quite happy with it.

Harry thinks he will be seeing a lot of him, and he isn't upset about it in the slightest, even if the boy has a soulmate out there somewhere. He noticed the marker wasn't moving, and that usually only means one thing… 

It’s rare for a soulmate to be younger, or not born in the same year as yourself.

With that thought, Harry goes back to kneading his dough, reprimanding himself silently for his thoughts. He’s here, all smitten with a boy he met five minutes ago whose soulmate is probably dead. Its quite sad now that he thinks about it, actually.

Harry decides that if the boy comes into the bakery again, maybe they could be friends, Harry doesn't have many.

**_**L**_ **

Louis makes his way up the hidden stairs in the bakery that lead up to his flat. He had to get Barbara to show him where they were; they were through the kitchen into a little corridor. Not all that convenient, considering he will have to have two keys, one for the bakery if its shut for the night and one for the flat.

After ascending the flight of stairs, Louis finds that the little landing at the top is filled with all of his boxes from home that were apparently delivered on time. Thank god. He payed enough for one day delivery that they should be. 

He has to turn sideways to get past them and unlock the door.

He removes his shoes and sees the flat is bright and cheery, more modern than Louis thought it would be, especially for the price. The walls are painted a light blue, and all the trims and window frames are white.

Its small, thats for sure, but its cosy. He finds the kitchen already equipped with a toast and microwave, two less things he’ll have to buy. His feet pad down the short hallway on the cold hardwood floors. 

He opens the door to the bedroom and find a plain room, white walls, tan carpets. Theres a queen size bed in the middle of the room and a window beside it. Its nice, Louis thinks. He can make it his own, like a blank canvas kind of.

He thinks of all the band posters packed away in the boxes and mentally pictures them in various spots on the bare walls to decide which ones should go where.

But for now, Louis just brings all the boxes inside, and takes the one labeled “Bed Stuff” out of the pile; its filled with sheets, and another box labelled the same contains his pillows (and maybe a stuffed animal or two).

He makes his bed nicely, and makes sure to lock his front door, even if it's unlikely anyone gets robbed in a tiny (compared to the 78,000 people at home in Doncaster) place like this.

Louis climbs into bed, settling in against his familiar sheets after he has found his iPod dock and plugged his mobile into it. The Fray is playing quietly over the speakers now.

The day catches up with Louis then, a wave of exhausting coming over him. He lets it consume him, and he falls asleep with a soft breath and eyelashes fluttering.

 

**_**H**_ **

He doesn't want to be awake right now. Too early, he thinks.

Harry’s college holidays don't end until the 10th of January. So here here he is on a Friday morning, up at 5 a.m. wondering and why he wanted to work at a bakery of all places. 

But even when he isn't on holidays, he's up this early quite a lot because he only has college classes on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Harry doesn't mind because he loves what he does.

The sun has begun to rise, oranges and yellows filter through his curtains when he gets out of his bed.

Stretching out his arms and back, Harry walks over to his dresser and gets a fresh work shirt out and puts it on his bed.

Curls are all over the place and he shakes them out with his hands while searching for some clean pants and throws those on the bed too.

Harry opens his bedroom door and makes his way to the bathroom for a shower.

 

Half-an-hour later he is showered, smelling like apples and vanilla, dressed and walking to work.

The shining sun is deceiving, as its actually quite cold. Harry can see his breath and his fingers are getting numb, so he stuff them into his pockets.

The walk is short, only three blocks. 

He sees the bakery come into view and picks up his pace. 

The heat of the bakery feels nice on his cold hands and rosy cheeks. The air smells of yeast and sugar, it smells delicious and makes Harrys empty stomach rumble. He usually eats yesterdays pastries for breakfast.

 

Its after he has eaten a chocolate chip muffin and baked his bread, that a thought occurs to Harry.

The boy, Louis, as he’d read (it was on a tenancy form Barbara had to sign, as she's the one letting the flat. Harry might've gotten curious and peeked) hadn't come back down after he went upstairs last night, and Harry is assuming he didn't go out after the bakery closed at 9. He probably doesn't have any groceries. 

So Harry goes to the front of the shop and fills a takeaway box with yesterdays still perfectly fresh Muffins, Jelly Rolls, Cookies, and some Scones. Then he grabs a few tea bags, all different types because he doesn't know what the boy likes, some sugar and creamers. 

Harry goes back through the kitchen and up the flight of stairs, he's crouching down to place the box of treats in front of Louis’ door when it swings open.

Harry falls on his bum.

“Oops.” He says sheepishly. A blush is blooming on his cheeks.

“Hi. What're you doing?” Louis asks, clearly confused and eyeing the box. He's still in pyjamas, clearly just having woken up.

“Well, as you just moved yesterday I didn't know if you had time to get groceries? So I brought some muffins and tea.”

“Oh, well thank you, Harry,” he must look startled because Louis says, “you’re wearing a name tag. Oh, and I'm Louis.” 

His hand gestures to his tag, and another hand reaches down to help him up. Harry takes it gratefully, and brushes himself off once he's standing.

“What’re you doing up this early, anyway? Thought I could get away with dropping this off.” Harry laughs, but he is genuinely curious about why he is up at such an hour, it being only 6:30 in the morning.

“I have work, first day. Wanted to get some things unpacked before I leave.” Louis shrugs, not looking very excited. He reaches down to pick up the box and disappears briefly in the flat, taking it with him.

Harry isn't sure what to do so he awkwardly makes to leave before Louis pops his head back out.

“Wanna come in for a bit? If you're not busy.” He rushes.

Harry smiles a little, Barbara wont mind if he goes in for a few minutes. She's the one always encouraging to put himself out there and make friends. He takes a step inside and notices the obvious lack of furniture.

“Sorry, I’ve yet to buy a couch, or chairs for that matter. Here.” Louis gestures to a pile of cushions and sits on one. Harry does the same.

The box of pastries is between them and Louis is munching happily. He has just picked up a jelly roll when he speaks.

“Weird question, but when you get off work, whenever that is, do you want to help me pick a couch? I’ve no idea where to look.” Louis looks sheepish when he takes another bite of his roll.

“I get off at 5, I’d love to.” Harry says, and he really would. Its not like he has plans or anything, he’ll just have to call his mum and let her know.

“Perfect. I get off at 4 so I’ll meet you in the bakery at 5ish then?” He asks.

Harry nods eagerly, probably a little bit too eagerly, and plucks a chocolate chunk cookie from the box. He is suddenly very glad he brought a change of clothes to work with him today; he'd hate to walk around smelling like yeast and butter.

“Where do you work?” He asks casually. Its a normal question, just making small talk with someone he's just met. He might be a little bit nosy too, but that doesn't matter because Louis is answering him.

“Oh, I'm going to be an assistant drama teacher at the primary school.” He looks excited, its cute. Excitement is a good look for him. “I’ll get to help with all the little kids and their school productions.”

He likes kids, and if Harry wasn't slightly smitten before, he definitely is now.

“Thats great,” He says, and rises from the floor where he was seated, “I better get back to work before Barbara comes looking for me. If you need a kettle we've got spares downstairs, just ask.”

“Oh okay, thank you again. These were delicious.” Louis has a brilliant smile displayed on his face. Harrys knees go a little bit weak but he doesn't fall again.

He gives a little wave and a smile as he closes the door to the flat behind him.

Leaning against the door he takes a deep breath, then continues on.

His life is going to be quite interesting as long as Louis lives here.

**_**L**_ **

Louis’ first day at work is eventful. The kids are a rambunctious bunch, screaming and running about the classroom as he and his co-teacher, Zayn, try to calm them so they can practice their songs for the upcoming spring production.

Eventually they just had to call it a day, the kids were too wound up by the time they did calm them and get them all seated on the risers. They practiced one song, and that was it.

Now Louis is walking with Zayn to the teachers lounge, and they take a seat at a round table by the coffee machine. All the other teachers must have gone home already, because its empty.

“Quite the bunch, aren't they?” Zayn says, accent thick.

Louis actually has to stifle a laugh because thats an understatement, but then he looks to Zayn and sees him doing the same and they both burst out in laughter. 

It goes on like this for a while before Louis looks at his watch and sees its nearing 5 o’clock. 

“Sorry, gotta get going. I’m picking out a couch with a mate.” Louis explains as he grabs his bag from the little hook he was designated. 

“Alright, see ya tomorrow then.” Zayn bids his farewells then too.

Louis walks quickly to the bus stop and taps his foot impatiently whilst waiting. He doesn't want to be late meeting Harry. He was kind enough to humour him and go pick out furniture.

Louis sighs in relief as he sees the bus round the corner.

The bus stops right in front of him and he ascends the step, giving his token to the driver. Louis walks to the very back of the bus and sits down with a huff, resting his bag on his lap.

He watches the town whiz by through the window before the bus comes to a stop close to the bakery and he hops off.

Its 4:47 when he arrives in the shop, so he figures he has time to run upstairs and get changed.

The door chimes when he opens it, and he walks past several elderly customers before getting to the kitchen. He sees Harry kneading some dough, and he looks quite attractive doing so; a little frown is set on his face as he focuses.

He doesn't say hi because Harry hasn't seen him, too focused on his work. So Louis just runs up the stairs and dumps his bag on the floor when he gets the door open.

Louis is digging through some boxes in search of that one blue shirt he likes when theres a knock at the door. Must be Harry.

“Come in!” He yells, the door can be heard opening and the boy steps inside.

“Louis?” he calls, voice bouncing off of the bare walls.

He still can find the shirt so he calls Harry to his room. “Back here.”

Harry walks through the door way and blushes immediately when he sees Louis. He then realizes he isn't wearing a top.

Louis has to turn away to keep from laughing at the poor sod. Its just a stomach after all.

“Sorry, I-“ Harry starts. But Louis’ found his shirt on the bottom of the his box of books. How it ended up there, he has no idea. He suspects it may have to do with his lack of organizational skills. 

“There it is!” He yells in victory, pulling it over his head and across his tummy. “Sorry, you were saying?”

“Oh, um, nothing. Never mind. Lets go, yeah?” Harry asks, and Louis agrees.

Harry looks slightly relieved as they make their way into the living area, and Louis pulls on some beat up old pair of Vans. They're the only ones not buried in a box, so they'll have to do.

Louis locks the door behind them and they make their way down the steps, through the kitchen, and out of the bakery with Barbara yelling “goodnight Harry!” after them.

“Okay, tour guide. Where shall we look first?” Louis asks, with genuinely no idea where to go.

“Um, theres a furniture store around the corner from here, not sure the name of it. How about we go there first, see if theres anything?” He fiddles with the button on his grey cardigan.

Louis smiles fondly, the boy seems to be nervous, must not get out much or something.

Subconsciously, Louis makes to roll his sleeves down his arms, effectively covering his map. He doesn't want to think about that today.

“Sounds good to me.” And so they walk down the street in a comfortable cloud of silence, only making occasional chit-chat in the ten minute walk.

The store is quite large, bigger than Louis was expecting from how it looked outside. There must be about 100 couches on display. How is he expected to choose one? 

Harry leads him to some ugly floral thing, claiming its ‘classic’. Louis disagrees with a scoff and Harry laughs at him. Theres a white leather thing in a back corner, and one of them makes a joke about it belonging to someone in the 80’s.

Its all quite fun.

“So, I should probably pick one soon. We've been here an hour already.” Louis glances at his watch confirming the statement.

“Yeah, I guess.” Harry says shrugging, and walking again to a nice couch.

Its grey, but it kind of looks like tweed with little flecks of different greys. Its also cheap, which Louis likes a lot. 

“This one is nice.” He says, taking a seat to test its comfort. It’s not bad, Louis thinks.

Harry plops down next to him and pats the cushions.

“Comfy.” He says, smiling at Louis.

Louis looks at the price tag one more time, “I think we have a winner!”

Harry laughs and stands up, offering his hand to Louis. He takes it with a smile, and its warm. Harry has nice hands, warm and soft. Its a weird thought, but a true one.

So they walk through the store back to the front desk where a man greets them and rings up Louis’ purchase.

“You’ll be needing it delivered, I assume?” The balding man asks.

And as Louis doesn't have a truck, or friends who own a truck, the answer is “Yes, please.”

“Okay. We can get it to you tomorrow at noon, how does that sound?”

Louis panics for a moment, thinking he has to work, but then he remembers it Friday, and tomorrow is Saturday. No school. Perfect.

“Good, yeah. Thank you.” Louis swipes his card through the machine, finalizing his purchase.

As Harry and Louis walk out of the store, Louis says,“I feel so old.”

Harry laughs that wonderful laugh of his, and its music to Louis’ ears. Its a mix between giggle and snorts, and is incredibly endearing.

“Whys that?” He asks.

“I just bought a couch for my flat which I pay for with my job, not video games or sweets. I’m old and boring.” Louis says.

Louis has been afraid of growing up since, well, he knew what growing up meant. It means bills and debt and work.

“Well, how about I treat you to some sweets then? Would that cheer you up?” Harry asks, stopping on the sidewalk to look at Louis seriously.

It really would, he thinks.

“Yeah, okay. If you're sure.” And Harry nods. So thats a yes then.

They walk to the nearest corner store, which is conveniently located a few shops down from the bakery.

They walk through the aisles laughing at some strange candies, like the sushi flavoured gummies, and penis shaped chocolates. Harry gets a box of those.

Its all very immature, but Louis feels happy for the first time since he got his map. All the anxiety about the move and his new job washes away and he's left with Harry.

Perfect little rosy cheeked and curly haired Harry making him happy as can be and buying him sweets.

Then he feels his tattoo pulse.

“Fuck.” Louis says, startled by the sensation. He grips his arm tightly, and pushes the sleeve up.

“Whats wrong?” Harry asks, concern is written all over his face.

“I think I can feel my soulmates heartbeat?” He says it as a question because he doesn't know. “Here, feel.” He puts Harrys hand on the tattoo and the look on his face confirms his thoughts.

But as Harrys hand slips off the map, he sees the soulmate marker is still in the same spot. It hasn't moved.

But he can feel their heart beat, a steady rhythm, coursing throughout the whole tattoo. It’s such a foreign feeling, Louis cant even describe it. He feels almost like he's taking someone else’s pulse.

“Yeah, I felt it.” Harry says belatedly, something off in his voice. 

Louis doesn't notice though, he's too busy being enamoured with the anomaly that is his tattoo.

 

**_**H**_ **

Harry isn't sure what to do.

He had spent the evening couch shopping with Louis, chatting away like they were old friends, testing couches (sitting closer together than explicitly necessary, but neither of them had moved to rectify the situation, so.) And he felt happy. He had made a lovely new friend, who also happens to be really pretty. 

Then they were standing in the convenience shop, and Louis stops, and suddenly his hand is on his own and is being placed on top of Louis map, palm feeling a heart beat that _somehow_ matches up with his own.

It could be a coincidence, but it would be quite a strange one. So of course the second he'd gotten home after walking Louis back to the bakery, he had unplugged his laptop from where it was charging, put on some pyjamas, and climbed into bed.

His finger moves to open google and he types in the search bar.

_Can you meet your soulmate before you know who and where they are?_

Its a simple question with more that 24 million answers, it seems. Harry clicks the first link, the person (on web M.d, he should add) has typed out a long and whinging response that Harry just skims over, looking for the bit he needs.

“… _In rare occurrences, it is possible to already know, or have already met, your soulmate. In most cases in which this has happened, only one person out of the couple will have their map, the other will not. This map will display an un-moving marker, and the person may believe their soulmate is dead. The person may just simply be younger. But if you have met your soulmate and the former is true, you may begin to feel their heartbeat start to beat at random, in moments of extreme happiness, despite the marker not moving_.”

Thats all Harry can handle for tonight, he thinks. 

All these possibilities running through his mind make it hard for him to fall asleep. There’s no way he is Louis’ soulmate, no way. Its just too weird, too coincidental. 

He decides its best not to mention this whole google search escapade to Louis. He might freak out and then Harry will loose whom he hopes has become a friend in the two days he has been here.

But, there really is only one way to find out if his suspicions are true, if that really was his heartbeat.

He’ll have to wait two years until he gets his own map.

**_**L**_ **

The next few months pass in a blur. Between work, hanging out with Harry, pub nights with Niall, Liam and Zayn, and living in general. Louis hadn't realized it was easter weekend.

So here he is, panicking and rushing to pack a bag for the weekend, and attempting to book a train ticket online to get home. He has to get home, he's only seen his family once since he moved, and that was for his mums birthday weeks ago, now.

So when Harry comes knocking on his door, he's relieved because he knows his best mate will help him out.

“Thank god! Mate, book my train ticket for me, will you? I’ve got to pack a bag.” He says, rushing.

His mum called about an hour ago, asking when he would be arriving tonight. Louis had completely forgotten about their planned visit. He had no train ticket booked, nor packed a bag, obviously. So he was quite confused until Louis realized what she meant. 

“Good to see you too.” Harry says laughing, but he sits at the newly purchased kitchen table (Harry helped him pick that too) and starts type on the laptop sat on top of the wooden surface.

Louis runs to his room and grabs the shirts from on top of his dresser, taking the one he was currently wearing off .

He walks back out to the kitchen and holds them up.

“Which one should I wear to dinner tonight?” He asks.

Harry blushes, but its to be expected. He always does, and Louis is quite endeared by it.

He seems to be actually pondering the choices before he says, “The blue one. Brings out those eyes of yours.”

Now its Louis' turn to blush, but he doesn't let Harry see, just tosses the shirt into the bag and pulls the other one on. He doesn't want to wear the blue one now and have it get dirty. They're good friends, but not that good. Yet. Maybe they are. . .

“Ticket is booked, you leave at 5.” Harry says, closing the top of the computer. Louis glances at the clock on he wall, sighing a breath of relief.

He has 6 hours until he needs to get to the train station. All that rushing and panic for nothing.

He flops over onto the couch when he remembers an off hand comment made by Harry a little while ago, something about his parents being gone for easter and his sister going to Italy with friends. And the bakery is closed for the holidays so he wont be needed there. . .

“Harry.” Louis says, capturing the attention of the boy. He stands up from table chair, and sits beside Louis on the couch. Louis props his head up on one of Harry’s legs before continuing. 

“So, I remember you saying how you'll be all alone for easter.”

Harry gives him a confused look, “Yeah, and?”

Louis continues on, unsure of whether he should ask or not, if they're close enough to justify it. He thinks they are so he asks.

“Do you want to come to my house for the weekend? As I might miss you?” He puts on his most dazzling smile and hopes Harry is so charmed he has no choice but to say yes.

Harry seems to hesitate a little bit before answering, but as Louis had hoped he would, he says, “Okay, as long as you're sure and your mums okay with it.”

His mum will be, there is no doubt in his mind. She's always loved new people, and he's sure Harry will be no exception. Plus whenever they chat on the phone, Harry is more often than not the main topic of conversation.

“She is.”

So Louis ended up booking another ticket on the laptop, a seat right next to his, before Harry somehow talks him in to coming to his house to help him pack.

The walk there is full of excited chatter.

“What are your sisters like?” Harry asks as they turn a corner.

Louis smiles at the thought of his sisters, he misses them so much.

“They are so great, really. Quite chatty, the lot of them, but I love them.”

Harry looks at him. Louis pretends not to see, but he watches out of the corner of his eye as Harry smiles down at him fondly.

The moment ends too soon.

“This ones mine.” he says, walking up the pathway to a little red brick house. He unlocks the front door and they step inside.

Harry takes his shoes off as Louis looks around, taking it all in. Theres photos hung on all the walls, some of Harry as a child, and who must be his sister Gemma. Theres even a couple of his parents wedding photos on display.

It makes him yearn for his family, suddenly very glad he will be seeing them in just a few hours.

“My room’s upstairs.” Harry says awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot.

“Lead the way then.” Louis smiles as Harry does just that, leading him up some stairs and down a hall to a door decorated in stickers from various brands and bands. Harry opens the door and he recognizes a few of the posters hanging on the grey walls as some of the same ones he has hanging up in his own bedroom.

Louis flops down onto Harrys bed. The sheets smell like him. Apples and vanilla, a scent Louis has grown quite fond of since February; because whenever he can smell it, that means Harry is near. 

He isn't sure when he memorized it, but he did and isn't even slightly concerned about it. But he feels a little guilty for reasons he cant explain when he feels the second heartbeat in his arm. An unpleasant reminder of the soulmate who is apparently alive and out there waiting to turn eighteen and find him.

His mum, of course, had been ecstatic when he told her the news. He had been considerably less so.

“You gonna pack or just stand there, curly?” Louis asks, propping himself up on his elbows.

Harry colours in the cheeks and does start packing. He pulls an overnight bag down from the top shelf of his closet, and stuffs a few t-shirt, pants, and pairs trousers inside.

Then he goes to get his toothbrush, leaving Louis to look around some more. Theres posters of The Fray, Paramore, Queen, and a lot of other bands Louis didn't know Harry liked. 

Theres sweets wrappers scattered on the night table beside his bed, and even more stuffed into the drawer, which curiosity made him open. But then he hears footsteps down the hall and shuts it hastily, laying back down where he was.

“Want some lunch before we leave? I’ll cook.” Harry asks, shoving the toothbrush in with his cloths before zipping the bag up.

Louis is never one to say no to Harrys cooking. Its too good.

So they go downstairs to the kitchen and Harry pulls some eggs, vegetables and a jug of milk from the fridge.

“Omelettes okay?” Harry asks, getting a bowl from the corner cupboard.

“More than okay.” He replies happily.

Harry looks at him for a moment. “Want to help me?”

Louis laughs at that, and Harry gets the cutest expression on his face.

Yes, cute. Harry is cute. Quite cherubic, if you were to ask Louis.

“I cant cook for shit.” He explains, its not like Harry doesn't know this, though. He's been up to his flat enough times to know his fridge contains orange juice and on a good day some cheese, and his freezer has a stockpile of frozen dinners. Spaghetti, lasagna, that sort of thing.

“Well, I’ll just have to teach you then, wont I? Here, come beat these eggs for me please.”

He only obliges because Harry is holding the whisk out to him with a sappy little smile on his sappy little face. Louis walk over and snatches the whisk from Harry’s hand, and places it into the bowl of already cracked eggs.

He hesitates before asking what is probably going to sound like the stupidest question in the world.

“How do you whisk?”

Harry sighs heavily, like Louis is putting him out by not knowing how, and places his hand atop of Louis’ and showing him. He moves their hands in little circles as the eggs being to lump together in one yellow liquid.

Louis gets goosebumps at the touch, and his stomach flips endlessly. It's a nice feeling, Harry’s hand on his.

But in a platonic way, obviously. Because he has a soulmate. (That he has made no effort whatsoever in the months he's been here to find.)

Ah fuck, Louis isn't kidding anybody. He is completely infatuated with Harry and he might be making it too obvious right now; because what kind human being doesn't know how to whisk?

He feels the heartbeat in his map pick up speed, reminding him that his soulmate is out there. Guilt wracks him, and Louis wishes it didn't because he owes this unknown person nothing. Why shouldn't he have feelings for someone? 

_Feelings_. Okay, so Louis can now at least admit to himself that he has feelings for Harry. Thats new, and also quite daunting, he thinks. He isn't quite sure what these _feelings_ entail yet.

This little fact leads him to say, “Okay, I've got it now.” Wishing to avoid any other awkward cooking situations.

He whisks the eggs a little bit more before handing them to Harry who adds peppers and spinach with a pinch of salt and pepper. 

Louis sit quietly at the table, twiddling with his thumbs and trying to ignore his tattoo.

**

Louis is left thinking about the way Harry’s mouth turned down at the corners when he withdrew from his touch for the rest of the day, until they are boarding the train.

They make their way to their designated seats, Harry shoves the bags into the overhead compartment because he grew three inches and is taller than Louis now, and can therefore reach better than he can.

Harry falls asleep the moment the train begins to move, head lolling onto Louis’ shoulder.

He doesn't bother moving it, Louis just rests his head on Harrys and goes to sleep too, covering them with his fuzzy blue spotted blanket Harry had gotten Louis for no apparent reason other than to spoil him. Harry’s matching pink one is at Louis’ flat where he forgot it on their last movie night. 

He lets his eyes close, and sleeps the whole train ride.

It's the best sleep he has had in a while.

**_**H**_ **

 

The train has stopped moving at last, and Harry rubs the sleep out of his eyes. The conductors voice is booming over the speakers, announcing their arrival in Doncaster.

Harry blushes when he realizes his head had fallen unto Louis’ shoulder, but he blushes even more when he realizes Louis’ and fallen not top of his own head. His fringe is tickling Harry’s face when he moves to shake his arm gently. His hand is accidentally resting on top of the tattoo, and he can feel the heartbeat again. Its still in sync with his own.

He ignores it and continues to wakeup Louis. The boy sleeps like the dead sometimes, so this is a challenge.

“Lou, the train has stopped.” He says quietly, still nudging him. All he gets is a ‘hmm’ in return, so harry removes his head for Louis’ shoulder, and then Louis wakes because his own has lost its support.

“Ugh, rude.” Louis says, voice sounding gruff as if he's just woken up in the morning. 

Its quite a nice voice; Harry can admit that he's grown attached to it. He hears it almost every morning when Louis comes down for breakfast in the bakery. (Two slices of white toast with raspberry _and_ strawberry jam, and a cuppa Orange Pekoe with too much milk.)

“C’mon, we've got to get off.” He says, making to stand up. Harry gets their bags down for the compartment with ease, and carries them both. 

“Alright then, no need to rush.” Louis says with annoyance in his voice. But he listens and stands up from the plush blue seat and walks down the aisle behind Harry.

Harry can feel him, his warmth and presence. He doesn't need to see Louis anymore to know he's there.

 

The sun has begun to set when they finally exit the train station, the sky is filled with glowing oranges, and reds and yellows. It reminds him of Louis. But everything does, these days, so its nothing new.

Louis has stopped by a bench and is squinting into the distance, his face all scrunched up and adorable.

“What, Lou?” Harry asks, because he hasn't broken his stare.

“I think my mum is over there.” He says, so Harry looks in the same direction as Louis and sees a lovely looking woman walking towards them. A grin spreads across her face as she jogs over.

An equally large grin is spreading on Louis’ face.

“Louis!” The lady yells, wrapping arms around her son in a tight embrace. The moment is sweet and Harry is left standing awkwardly behind the two of them.

“Hi mum.” Louis whispers, he sounds so happy. Harry cant help but to smile as they hug for a moment longer.

“And who is this, hon?” Louis’ mum asks, stretching one arm out to shake his empty hand.

“Im Harry, nice to meet you Mrs. Tomlinson.” Its probably the most awkward handshake he's ever hand because his palms are sweating immensely, but she doesn't seem to mind

“Oh! _The_ Harry you've told me all about, then? That one?” Louis’ mum looks over to the shorter boy and smiles with some sort of knowing look on her face. Harry swears he sees a blush arise on his cheeks.

But then Harry is being pulled into a hug that causes him to drop their bags in surprise, and so that he can return it. 

“Good to meet you Harry. Call me Johannah, Jo, whichever you'd like, please. Ms. Tomlinson makes me feel old.” Joh smiles at Harry once they break the hug, he looks over to Louis and finds him already watching them with a fond little smile on his face.

It makes Harry’s heart melt.

“Shall we go then?” She asks, and Louis readily agrees. Harry picks up their bags again, despite Louis’ offers to carry one, and they make their way to the car.

 

The ride is short, Louis mustn't live far, because before he knows it they're pulling into the car port and walking through the big wooden front door. 

Harry might have fallen asleep again as soon as the car started moving.

Louis is immediately bombarded by a small horde of children and they're all yelling his name in excitement, its chorus of little voices all at once.

“Hello my loves, I've missed you!” Louis says hugging them all in one big cosy group hug. Harry watches from the doorway as they break apart from the hug and notice him standing there.

He’s suddenly very awkward again. Maybe coming here wasn't the best idea.

“Is this Harry?” One of the older girls, probably around 12 or so, asks, clearly knowing who he is. 

Harry is surprised to say the least, he didn't realize Louis would have told his family about him, Its sweet and he is entirely flustered by it because that means Louis _talks about him_ , a lot if their recognition is anything to go by.

“It is indeed.” Louis says, patting her head with a smile on his face. He winks over at Harry.

One of the twins, who Harry recognizes from some photos on display in Louis’ flat is the next to speak; her sweet Yorkshire accent ringing in the sudden silence.

“Is he your soulmate? The one from you map, Louis?” She asks, eyes wide with wonder as she eyes Harry.

Its Louis’ turn to feel awkward, it appears. He has turned some un-natural shade of red and is stammering his way through his words.

Harry’s heart may sink at little at his eager denial, but he doesn't let on. Just laughs and keeps and even expression as Louis’ speaks.

“No, no. No. I haven't found my soulmate yet, sweetheart. You'll know when I do Daisy, I promise.” He says.

Daisy holds out his little pinky finger, “You pinky promise?” she whispers.

“Of course.” Louis speaks, wrapping his own pinky around hers.

Johannah walks back into the room then with a little smile pointed towards Harry.

“Your room is all ready, Lou. Harry’s going to bunk with you.” Then she hands Harry a pile of sheets and ushers them up the stairs.

Louis is the first up the steps, seemingly eager to revisit his old bedroom. Harry has to admit that he is too.

Louis opens a poster covered door, Harry spots few familiar ones, and walks inside. The room is exactly how Harry pictured it, a few posters left on the walls, movie tickets and pictures pinned to a cork board, and a bed right in the middle.

A bed. As in one.

“You guys okay with sharing? We don't have a spare bedroom, so you’ll have to be.” Johannah laughs, winking at her son. Harry can feel himself blushing, his warm cheeks probably giving it away.

Louis looks over to him with a question playing on his mouth, and Harry answers it before he gets the chance to ask.

“I’m okay with it if Louis is.” He says, and walks to the bed to put the sheets down. He looks behind him to see Louis giving his mum a look, but he nods in agreement.

“Alright then, dinner should be ready in about an hour. I’ll let you both get settled” Louis’ mum said, and closes the door when she leaves.

Harry looks at Louis with a smirk on his plump pink lips, “Nice room. I especially like the Paramore poster.” He gestures to a red haired Hayley Williams hanging above the bed.

“Shut up.”

“Fine, help me make the bed then.”

Louis walks over and grabs the bottom sheet from the pile, putting the rest on the night table.

“You do that corner first.” He says.

Harry attempts to pull it over the mattress’ corner, but it just springs back with every try. Harry huffs in frustration. This for some reason sends Louis into a fit of laughter, then Harry follows suit because his laughter is very contagious. _Too_ contagious if you ask him.

 

The one fight they've had since the met each other February was over the last cookie in the box. They were double chocolate chip, and Louis had already eaten most of them. Harry had been over for a movie night, and sure, he could have simply gotten more from the display downstairs, but that would have required him standing up from the warmth of the blanket that was thrown over the both of them, and moving away from Louis. Their legs were pressed together even though the couch seats 4 and there was plenty of space. And he wasn't about mess that up, he likes feeling close to Louis.

So they played rock paper scissors on their laps, that ended in a tie somehow, and then they flipped a coin. Harry bet heads, Louis bet tails.

Louis flipped the coin land it landed on heads, Harry won the cookie. But Louis, being the sore loser that he is, ate it anyway in one big bite.

Harry couldn't stay mad for long because Louis’ cheeks were stuffed with cookie and he was trying not to laugh, but little crumbs kept falling out of his mouth.So Louis started laughing, and then so did Harry. 

 

So no, Harry isn't mad at all, Louis’ face is too cute to stay mad at. He just flops over on the unmade bed beside Louis who is still giggling.

Harry twists his head to face Louis, and find blue eyes already staring back. Its moments like these, that happen all too often with someone who is meant to be look for his soulmate, that Harry really has to fight the urge to kiss his lips.

He isn't sure when he started feeling this way about Louis, he just started thinking every little thing he does it utterly adorable, and then he found himself falling in love with the way Louis wakes up in the morning, with a little yawn and a big stretch; So it just kind of happened, he guesses. 

But one thing Harry knows is that this is going to be a very interesting weekend.


End file.
